


Sinner's Prayer

by azkabuns



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Lucifer - Freeform, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Maze loves coconut water who knew, Mazikeen - Freeform, New Years, Other, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 18:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20362837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azkabuns/pseuds/azkabuns
Summary: Written for a prompt on Shadowplay, simply centring around the start of a New Year.Lucifer buries himself in the midst of other people's revelry to see out one year into the next, but it doesn't help.





	Sinner's Prayer

Lux is packed to the rafters, the bass a constant thrum. To Lucifer’s ears, it sounds like a human’s heartbeat, rhythmic but changeable with every twist of emotion, every spike of adrenaline. He is, as ever, sprawled on one of the curved, leather couches, his arms spread out across the back with a gorgeous (if vapid) woman on either side. He looks every inch the king he is. Entitled.  
  
And why shouldn’t he? A king of hell is still a king and _this_ – the den of iniquity that is LA – is his kingdom.  
  
**“Enjoying yourself?” **  
  
Lucifer doesn’t look round at the sound of Mazikeen’s voice, her sarcastic drawl as familiar to him as his own. Instead, he swirls the whisky in his tumbler once, twice, eyes fixed unseeing on the liquid as it moves, then downs it in one. **“Always. Are you telling me you aren’t? Honestly, Maze, you could have your pick of playthings in here.”**  
  
Maze snorts derisively and vaults the back of the couch to take the vacated place on Lucifer’s left hand side. Vacated because she’d made sure the woman there had seen the glint of her silver knife, and his left because she resented the idea of being his ‘right-hand woman’ – an inane, human sentiment. **“I could, but you don’t let me play with them my way.”**  
  
This time, Lucifer looks at her, a flash of warning in his eyes. A split second later, it’s gone and his mouth twists into a cajoling smile, perfect teeth gleaming. **“It’s bad for business to have ritualistic torture going on on the dancefloor – not to mention a buzzkill.”**  
  
Maze’s only reply is a roll of her heavily kohl-lined eyes and a sighed ‘whatever’. Then she disappears from his side and into the heaving throng of bodies.  
  
It’s early for the club to be this busy – only 11:30 – but tonight isn’t like any other night of the year, for humans at least. They’ve got half an hour left to leave 365 days of regrets and fear behind them before they can start anew. Before they embark on the first of another 365 days of the same.  
  
It also happens to be the absolute prime time of the year for favours.  
  
Already Lucifer has granted fifteen; a promotion, a rigged divorce, money, money and more money. When the clock chimes twelve, he expects to grant a dozen more at least, desperate people asking under the guise of _‘New Year’s Resolutions’_. As ever, he won’t point out that it’s hardly a resolution in the traditional sense if someone else is doing the work for them.  
  
**“Lucifer.”**  
  
She hardly needs to say anything to get his attention. Lucifer has been inexplicably attuned to her presence for weeks, months, now. Before Chloe Decker had even come into his eye line, he’d known she was here.  
  
**“Detective! What a delightful surprise, I knew you still had a party girl side.”** Lucifer is on his feet and in front of her in a heartbeat, too close. He tells himself it’s because the club is loud and there’s no way he’d hear her otherwise and not because he always finds any excuse to be in her personal space. To her credit, she doesn’t move back.  
  
**“I’m not here for the party-“**  
  
He notices her hair is unbound, loose around her shoulders instead of scraped back into a bun. **“And yet not on official business, either,”**Lucifer says, the smile fading from his face. A blink and his eyes are no longer too bright, too enthusiastic, but concentrating instead as he looks down at her. He dares to raise a hand and brush his fingertips over her cheekbone, pushing a phantom lock of hair out of her face. _A new year, new beginnings, new opportunities…_  
  
**“No, not official business.”** Chloe leans into his touch, face open and bright and earnest. **“I’m here because I-“**  
  
**“Mr Morningstar?”**  
  
Lucifer blinks.  
  
The daydream vanishes.  
  
He’s still on the couch and there’s a man standing in front of him, shoulder curved inwards and almost bent at the waist. There’s desperation coming off him in waves. Lucifer beckons him forward. Just another day at the office.  
  
*  
  
Maze finds him on the balcony of the penthouse at 11:58, shirt undone and flapping lazily in the December-soon-to-be-January breeze. This time he has a bottle instead of a tumbler, held precariously in one hand and hanging over the railing on which his forearms lean. She joins him, mirroring his pose, and they stare out at the skyline in silence for a whole minute. The countdown will begin soon, and Lux will have its own version of the Times Square ball drop. Lucifer thought he was funny when he’d come up with it and clichédly called it the Bass Drop instead. Lux is a club, after all.  
  
**“Overrated, you know,”** Maze says, breaking the silence and sounding uncharacteristically sympathetic. For all her bravado and ferocity, she cares for him. She always has and he’s always known, but until she’d joined him on Earth it had never been in such a human way. (Honestly, it disgusts her sometimes but when it’s just the two of them she doesn’t mind so much.)  
  
**“What is?”**  
  
**“Everything.”** She shrugs and Lucifer exhales a humourless laugh, swigging deeply from the whisky bottle and passing it over to her. **“But,”** she starts, then pauses to drink. **“Then again, so is coconut water and I can’t get enough of it.”**  
  
The two of them share a look. Lucifer nods, the only show of thanks he can give for her understanding.  
  
The sound of the countdown many floors below echoes into the night and they fall silent again until the clock hits midnight and the bass truly drops, thundering up through their very bones.  
  
**“This year will be different,”** Maze asserts, handing the bottle back with a baring of her teeth that is almost a reassuring grin. Lucifer looks away at the never ending lights of LA.  
  
**“No,”** he says. **“It won’t.”**


End file.
